Chapter Nineteen
“O h my God,” Becca murmured . “I can’t imagine that my dad would do anything illegal like this. Sell weapons, of all things.”
Rio set the rifle aside and inspected the wooden crate. “No markings except for a number. Wonder if there’s any clue about where these puppies are going. The number should correspond to a purchase order, right? Maybe there’s a paper trail.”
“Yes, in fact any purchase order should go through my office. I see them all. Let’s go. I’ll show you.”
Carefully. Rio put everything back as they’d found it, and moved to follow her up the ramp and down the hallways.
At the first door, Becca opened it and Rio pushed inside. He used the penlight to search the room. A typical office, it featured a desk, a tall fiddle fig plant in the corner, and a few framed photos of her family.
Pinned to a bulletin board, he saw notes in childish scrawlings. Thank you , Miss De Monte, one said, and beneath that was a crudely drawn dark-haired woman with a big smile. Becca. He guessed it might have been made by one of her employee’s kids. He figured that for working parents, this hubcap business must be a great place. Becca appeared to be an understanding and flexible employer. That was pretty cool, her attention to detail. She was incredible.
Becca took a seat at her desk ... and found nothing. “Where’s my desktop?” she asked, looking around.
“Your computer is gone?” he asked.
“It’s not here.”
Rio met her gaze. “Can you get into your brother’s computer files?”
“Yes, I know the passwords.” They went into the next office and she sat at the computer. Typing in a few commands, it took only a moment to discover there were no purchase orders that looked unusual or different.
“Bet those crates are going to Mexico,” Rio said. “To the cartel that grabbed you.”
“But why kidnap me?”
“Maybe the cartel took you originally for ransom money. But for whatever reason, they didn’t want you getting away, going back home. If they think you stumbled on your Uncle Tim’s extracurricular activity here, you might know too much for their comfort.”
“But I didn’t know anything.”
“They can’t afford to take that chance. Better to take you, even kill you before you possibly blab to the authorities. They’ve got a sweet deal going here.”
Becca shook her head, overwhelmed. Unexpectedly, her eyes filled. “Does Uncle Tim want me dead?”
Rio squeezed her shoulder. “We don’t know how deep he’s in this. It looks bad, but let’s not draw any conclusions yet.”
She sniffed. “Okay.”
“We need a face-to-face, Becca. With your dad. It’s vital to know if he has any connection to the gun running happening in his own business.”
“Is it safe for me to call him now?” She wiped her eyes.
“Let’s not tip him off ahead. Do you know where he might be tomorrow? In town?”
“I can check his schedule. His campaign keeps it online and I know that password, too.” In a hurry, she pulled up her father’s day-to-day appointments. “He’s due to speak at a political fundraiser tomorrow night. It’s here in San Antonio at a private residence. A mansion belonging to a local bigwig businessman.”
“An outdoor rally? Casual? That type of thing?”
Again, Becca scanned the website. Before she could answer, he asked, “Tell me it’s not a dress-up event.”
“Black tie champagne reception.”
He groaned. “I hate getting stuffed into business suits.”
“It won’t be a business suit,” she said. “It’ll be a tuxedo and tails.”
With his thumb, Rio rubbed a spot between his eyes.
At his obvious discomfort, her tears dried and she suppressed a smile. “Something tells me you’ll look okay in a tux.”
****
R io didn’t look just okay in his black tuxedo. He looked fabulous. Using his cache of money, they’d gone to a clothing rental shop and while she found a stretchy fitted black dress and heels, he’d been outfitted in the formal suit.
Now that he was clean shaven, with his hair brushed back from his forehead, she saw that his muscular body nicely filled out the crisp white dress shirt and black jacket and trousers. A satin detail lined the lapels. With his tanned skin, vivid blue eyes, and blond hair, he would have outshone any movie star on an Academy Awards red carpet.
When he presented himself, Becca was momentarily speechless.
“I look all right?” he asked, fastening a gold cuff link.
“More than all right.” Reaching up to straighten his bowtie, Becca took in every facet of his appearance, from his neatly brushed hair to his gleaming dress shoes. She decided it wouldn’t do any harm to tell him the truth. “You’re a gorgeous man, Rio.”
“Think so?” He grinned. “Does that mean I might get lucky later tonight?”
Becca shrugged, deliberately allowing her breasts to sway. The stretchy black sheath dress fit her every hill and valley down to her lower calves. The mermaid style covered the bandaged wound on her leg and plunged scandalously low in front. Her slim arms were bare. She wore no bra and when she moved, a tantalizing curve of side breast showed.
Instantly, Rio’s gaze dropped to her cleavage. “You’ve got a little exhibitionist in you. Don’t you?”
Her cheeks pinkened. “I don’t know.” She glanced away.
He pulled her close, ran his finger down her neckline and drew a pattern over the tops of her breasts. “It’s okay, Becca. I don’t mind.”
“Really?” She sought his gaze. “My other boyfriends didn’t like it. You know, if I wore something revealing. Or if ... if I wanted to flash someone. Just for fun, you know? They were threatened.”
“As long as all of this,” he cupped her breast, “is just for me, I’m not threatened.”
Becca caught her breath, and met his gaze. “I’m just for you.”
Rio placed his hands on her rear and pulled her close to kiss her thoroughly. Lifting his head, he gave her a wicked grin. “Promise to flash me every once in a while?”
She nodded.
He fingered the black dress. “If we don’t go right now, this scrap of fabric is coming off.”
Becca hesitated, tempted. After their visit to her family business, and Rio’s insistence on what he called a mini-tour, she appreciated his intellectual curiosity. It was a trait sorely lacking in her recent boyfriends. He’d expressed genuine interest in how things were done at the warehouse, and seemed to admire her efforts. He’d made her feel good about her drive, her attention to detail, her hard work. He understood.
Unfortunately, they couldn’t afford to miss her father’s political event. Sighing, she picked up her bag and headed for the door. With even greater reluctance, Rio followed.
****
T heir cab pulled smoothly up to the gates of the grand San Antonio mansion. Since Becca’s car was still parked at her condo carport, and the rusty beater Rio had rented wouldn’t do, they used a car service.
The home’s Spanish Colonial architecture created a mood of charm and grace. White, with a barrel tile roof, the house featured carved stone columns wrapping around windows and porches. Soaring stone arches rose gracefully from the ground floor to a high second story. Mature Monterrey oak trees grouped around the curved driveway flanked by well-trimmed hedges. Every light in the house and gardens had been turned on and the compound blazed.
As their driver wheeled away, they approached a man guarding the gate. As part of her father’s security detail, Becca realized he was someone she knew.
“Can you get us by him?” Rio muttered into her ear.
“I think so.” She greeted the man. “Hi, Gill. How are you? How’s Emily?”
“Good evening, Miss De Monte. Emily is well.” He glanced over a clipboard and looked troubled. “I—I’m sorry, but you’re not on the list tonight.”
She squeezed Gill’s arm. “I know. I’m surprising my dad. He doesn’t know I’m coming. Don’t radio up to the house.”
Eying Rio with clear misgivings, Gill hesitated. “I don’t know, Miss De Monte. It’s against policy.”
Rio returned his gaze coolly.
Becca took Rio’s hand in hers, and leaned her head on his shoulder. “Come on, Gill. My date and I will only be here for a little while. I just want to surprise Daddy. He won’t be happy with you if you stop us. Now, don’t say a word and I won’t tell him about this.”
“I’m not sure...”
As though he hadn’t answered, Becca casually walked past him, still linking hands with Rio.
Gill looked confused.
When they were several yards past and he made no move to stop them, Rio whispered, “Nice work.”
At the soaring front door, they were greeted by two men dressed in black directing guests into the main salon. Expansive stone-cut travertine flooring led to stone wall plaster finishes and cathedral ceilings.
A crush of cocktail-attired people chattered amid the chink of champagne flutes chimed against each other. Servers passed with trays of oyster-on-the-half-shell. In one corner, a cigar roller was busy at his craft. The women were all in fashionable, glittering dresses, and the men in tails and coats. Eagerly, Becca scanned the room until her gaze fell on her father, holding court in the middle of a knot of men across the room. Well groomed, in an expensive suit, the handsome fifty-year-old seemed in his element.
Intent on making a beeline for him, she was stopped by Rio’s hand on her elbow.
“Wait a second,” he said. “He’ll be pretty surprised to see you. We don’t need a scene. Remember, he doesn’t know you’ve been rescued. We need to get him into a private room.”
“Got it.” To the left she spotted a pair of closed doors, presumably a library or guest room. That would do.
As they approached, she saw Daniel De Monte’s gaze stray from the men in front of him and he caught sight of her. His mouth dropped open. He gasped. “Rebecca?”
“Dad!” She flew into his arms. Rio stood back.
Hugging her tight, the older man exclaimed, “Oh, God, I can’t believe it! You’re safe!”
The people surrounding Daniel looked on curiously.
Rio came forward. “Since it’s been a good two weeks since you’ve seen her, I’m sure you’ll want a private word with your daughter,” he said, indicating the closed doors.
Before he could react, Becca urged her father toward the room. “Yes, Daddy, come talk to me for a minute.”
One of the men standing beside Daniel faded back, stepped away from the others. He was bald, with lightly pocked skin and a reserved manner. He said nothing and Becca barely noticed him.
Looking confused but relieved, Daniel De Monte allowed himself to be herded into the room. When a tall, rather muscular man who appeared to be a bodyguard tried to follow, Becca said to her father, “Just us, okay, Dad?”
He waved the bodyguard off and Rio closed the doors.
Inside, the paneled room was walled by hardbound books and featured a broad desk and groupings of club chairs. A fire crackled in an enormous fireplace.
Daniel took his daughter by the shoulders, and searched her face. “I’m so happy to see you. You can’t imagine how worried I’ve been. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine now, thanks to Rio.” She broke the embrace to look at her rescuer, standing behind her. “He got me away from the Mexican cartel. This is Rio Lang.”
“Mr. Lang, I’ll assume you work for Black Eagle?” He held out a hand.
In the fireplace, a log snapped and briefly blazed. Sparks flew upward into the flue.
Rio took the shorter man’s hand, perhaps with a firmer grip than strictly necessary. “That’s right.”
“Allow me to express my deepest gratitude. I’ve been worried sick.”
“Uh-huh.” Rio dropped the other man’s hand. “So worried you still needed to continue your political fundraising?”
“Rio!” Becca scowled at him. The fire behind her climbed higher.
Daniel blanched. “I—I had to! I realize it might look bad, but I was advised to keep the matter quiet. We needed to continue on our regular schedule. Nobody wanted an international incident.” He spread his hands wide.
“Of course not, Dad,” Becca said. She patted his arm. “Rio, please.” She cast him a warning glance.
He ignored her.
Daniel said, “The Black Eagle people assured me they’d send their best.”
“They did. They sent me.” Rio leaned toward the man and allowed his superior height and bulk to loom over the other. The fire in the grate raged. “So, tell me, what kind of man puts his daughter’s life in danger? Did you know she was shot?”